


Death By Daffodils

by Illulysto



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Friendship Comes Through, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Unrequited Love, Vomiting Flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8693485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illulysto/pseuds/Illulysto
Summary: Unrequited love feels like a knife being driven into your heart and having it twisted until you're left bone dry. This time however, it comes with a cruel and floral touch.
Your name is Jane Crocker, and you have contracted the fatal Hanahaki Disease.
(AKA. I got inspired to write angst from some art on Tumblr. Just fuckin great.)





	

You know Dirk Strider better than anyone. You were there before even Roxy rocketed herself into his arms as a lofty first impression and certainly before Jake wandered like a dizzy deer into the chemistry class. From the first time he punched Kelsey Helf in the nose for calling you fat and calling her, and you quote, "A fucking bitch!" unquote, the two of you have been inseparable since five years old.

It's because of knowing him for so long that you've picked up some of his ticks. He would fidget something wretched in the face of an unknown entity. He would slump his shoulders when he was tired and would play with his hair when he was bored. Nowadays, these ticks have become harder to find, but you notice them in small moments.

By the time you're fifteen, the duo has gone from a trio to a quartet. You all roam the streets to school and back, Roxy skipping and or stumbling ahead (it really depends on the day and if she drinks in the morning), Jake galloping behind with a grin and gleam in his eyes and you and Dirk tailing the rear, you leaning more towards Jake's calloused hands. He turns around and his smile defies physics by becoming larger than life and your heart sings.

You see Dirk looking away with a hand on his chest.

A month later, you wake up with a tickling in your throat and a strange taste on your tongue. Sitting up, you find that it's a minor challenge to breathe. Coughing and hitting your chest to get whatever is trapped in your lungs out, something soft and wet falls to the palm of your hand. It's yellow in the darkness, you note. Turning on the light, you see it's a daffodil.

Obviously, this perplexes you, and you text Dirk in the middle of the night in hope of some solace in this mystery. He answers of course.

GG: Good evening, Dirk!  


TT: Hey, what are you doing up?  
TT: Young ladies such as yourself should be knocked the fuck out.  


GG: Well, there's a reason for that you see.  


TT: Okay. Shoot.  


GG: I seem to have coughed up a daffodil. A healthy one too.  


TT: That's...  
TT: That's nasty. I mean shit-nasty. How the fuck would that happen? Unless you're taking those dieting tips to heart.  


GG: Strider I see no purpose to eating flowers at this time of night! I would disturb the neighbours!  


TT: Or the fairies that keep your gardens hella nurtrified at night.  


GG: What mischievous fellows!  
GG: But to not veer this late night chat into something of trivial but valuable territory, I still would like some assistance.  


TT: Wait...  


GG: Why are you taking so long to Google it?  


TT: I'm not. I know what you have.  


GG: Have?  


TT: Here.

You wait until he pings you again with a link to an official-looking article about Hanahaki Disease. You read it and your chest clenches down. Unrequited love... But with... oh...

TT: Jane, do you have any crushes?  


GG: Yes, why?  


TT: One of those, depending on how serious they are, might be the cause of you barfing daffodils.  


GG: Well it says that you tend to...  
GG: ...expel the favourite flower of the one you most desire.  
GG: I suppose we'll have fo sleuth to find the culprit of my floral regurgitation!  


TT: Jane this is serious. If this goes on for more than a year than you might...  


GG: Don't worry your tackily adorned head, Strider! I assure you that with Detective Crocker...  
GG: (Do it!)  


TT: ...and Vice Inspector Strider.  


GG: ...That we will get to the bottom of this mysterious romantic scene!  
GG: Hoo hoo hoo!  


TT: Well, we'll see, Miss Crocker. For now, we shall recuperate and rendezvous by the educational block by morning.  


GG: Will do, Strider! Thank you for your assistance! Farewell!  


TT: Goodnight Jane.

You find it hard to sleep after that. Hopefully you covered how scared you are well enough to him.

(~}*{~)

The following day, you and Dirk meet up at school early to confront each of your crushes and see what flower is causing you grief. You get peonies, roses, daisies, but not daffodils. They all seem to give you a knowing look, as if they see what you're going through. The more dead ends you wind up in, the more your chest tightens and you swear roots are wrapping themselves around your lungs. You're trying not to cough up anything at school; that would raise too many questions and Roxy and Jake would be all over you with concern.

You temporarily postpone the search when your first class starts, and Dirk nods before heading in the opposite direction and checking to see if you're okay. You say you're fine, but really, you're downright terrified. You don't want to believe that being in love has a chance of killing you in the most tantalisingly cruel way, what with suffocation by plant. But you generally have a positive outlook on things, and you're determined to not be dragged down by this situation.

By lunch, the search continues, but all turn up naught. Sunflowers, poppies and violets. Still no daffodils. That only leaves one more person, and you adamantly regret the future interaction with him. You and Dirk return to your lunch table, Roxy sipping on some fruit juice and Jake half-way done with his meal.

"Hey Janey, what's all this asking about favourite flowers?"

You hesitate, and immediately feel another cough in your throat. You push it back down, "I-it's for a survey to decorate for prom?"

"Ahhh okiedokers. Forgot you're, like, the student prez and stuff," replies the pink-tipped blond, taking another swig of juice, "Since you're on the subject of favourite flowers, can Jakey and I throw in our flower hats into the ring or however the hell that saying goes to make it flower related?"

You giggle, "Of course."

"Well I like pink foxgloves!"

Jake sets his fork down and smiles at you, and you feel a blush crawl to your cheeks. He doesn't notice, of course. You already have a gut-wrenching pang in your stomach that you know what his answer is: "I am quite a man for daffodils, if I must say!"

You chest constricts further, but you catch Dirk clutching his as well with a not-so-quiet cough.

(~{*}~)

Over the past few months, your coughing has escalated into something worse. Daffodils escape your lungs almost on a day, the flower juices burning you from the inside. You've come to despise the colour yellow, the saliva-covered petals crumpling in your hand as you cup your mouth. Your chest feels tight and strained with every breath you take, and it brings you to tears every night.

Dirk has been with you throughout your plight, but he's been disappearing from time to time. He never tells you why, however, always vanishing for minutes to hours at a time. He assures you not to worry, giving you one of those rare Strider Smiles to lift your spirits. It really helps you.

This goes on for almost a year, and you practically feel the prodding of roots and petals against your ribcage. The sour nectar begins to clog your stomach, blossoms spewing from your lips with a hint of blood staining the yellow. It hurts. It hurts like hellfire in your throat and chest.

You've been working up the courage to tell Jake how you feel. He's been as blissfully unaware as a newly born bird, of course, greeting you as cheerfully and making you laugh with his silly dialect and boundless energy. You have caught the subtle cough though. You wonder why everyone around you is starting to cough.

After a few weeks, you finally decide to do it. You call Jake after school and he obliviously accepts, bouncing on his heels underneath the large oak outside. You fiddle with your hands as you walk over, and he waves, because he's Jake and he's commonly compared to a friendly dog.

"Hello Jane! What can I do you for?"

You swallow the petals and almost murmur, "Jake... there's... There's something rather urgent I should tell you."

He raises an eyebrow in confusion, "Alright... Go on ahead."

Sucking in a breath, you close your eyes to avoid his green ones, "I really like you Jake."

"U-uh... I like you too Jane! You're one of my best chums!"

"No not that way! I mean really really like you!"

He's silent for a few seconds, and you tentatively open your eyes to see him smiling sadly at you, his hand on his chest, "Jane... I..." he swallows, "I'm... I-I'm sorry but... I don't feel the same..."

You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you have to take off your red-rimmed glasses to wipe the salty liquids away. The daffodils in your heart swell, and you want to vomit. You want to give him your heart but he doesn't want it. He doesn't want your heart tangled in his favourite flower.

He's starting to cry too, "I-I'm sorry Jane I really am... I-I don't want to fuck up anything between us but I simply j-just... Jesus fuck..."

"I-it's okay Jake... I understand..."

"C-can we... Can we hug it out like pals? Forever?"

"O-of course, Jake. Of course."

And you wrap your arms around each other and it feels like hugging a giant ball of cotton. His arms are so strong and they close around your waist so easily. He is the second tallest of your group, losing to Dirk. You hug for what seems like hours, and he pulls back and ruffles your head of black hair, giving you a with smile filled with crooked teeth.

When you get home, you text Dirk about what happened and in mere minutes he's at your door and you're in his arms, kisses to your forehead. The weight in your chest vanishes, the daffodils dying in your heart for one final time.

"I'm so sorry, Jane..." he says, his voice hoarse, as if he's almost in tears as well.

Burying your head in his shoulder, you say, "It's okay... I'll make it."

He offers to make you a big bowl of your grandmother's ice cream and he sits with you while you marathon Sherlock. You remember falling asleep in his arms, but he disappears by morning.

(~}*{~)

All traces of the daffodils have vanished from your lungs, and you're happily living through your life with your friends. You're immensely glad that you and Jake haven't had a fallout, and he's been so sweet to you as well. Roxy too. She's been drinking less, and you're so relieved to see her sober most mornings. Dirk... He could be better. He hardly comes to school anymore, and when he does he's trembling and struggling to stand, his hand clenching his shirt and a word not even uttered.

You're getting increasingly worried by this, watching him fall through the hallways and attempting to even sit up. You decide that enough is enough, and you confront him about it, "Dirk, are you okay?"

"Mm..." he grunts, looking away from you. It's moments like these that you despise those goddamn shades perched on his nose.

"I need a straight answer, buster, and I'm not going without one."

He simply shakes his head, his hand covering his mouth. Suddenly, fear strikes you like lightning and your own hands begin to rattle.

"Dirk...? Do you have..."

"No."

"Dirk please!" you reach out but he runs off before your fingertips even brush his shoulders. You hear a muttered sorry before he blinks out from sight and leaves you dumbfounded in the hall.

(~{*}~)

You all sit on the couch in Dirk's apartment, some movie on a random channel that isn't holding much of your interest. Jake is enthralled in it, somehow. He takes a liking to any and all movies no matter how shit they are. Roxy is giggling like a bloody hyena at whatever is happening on screen, calling it ridiculously improbable and hilariously atrocious. In her way of speaking, not yours. She doesn't put in the effort to sound smart for fun– thinks it's silly.

Dirk is closed off from everyone else. He's silent at the end of the couch, hardly watching with you. This is an odd occurence, since most movies like this one are his favourite to tear apart and point out every flaw and how illogical it is, but he hasn't said a word since you got here. His hand is always covering his mouth, his legs shift uncomfortably and he leans on the couch arm to support himself. He looks like he might faint.

Roxy gives some snide commentary about the scene happening now, and Jake laughs out loud. It's so outlandish and pure that it makes you smile as he throws his head back and slaps his knee. That's when you see Dirk...

...blushing. With a hint of a smile too.

Oh god you feel like a bloody fool now.

He sees your stare and excuses himself, briskly walking to what appears to be his room. You take in a breath and follow him. Roxy and Jake don't seem to mind much. As you reach his room, you stop in your tracks. There's a sickeningly familiar scent in the air and you think you may vomit if exposed to it for much longer. The small scraps of yellow on the carpet make your stomach lurch in downright terror.

You forget all sense of discreetness and run to his room, banging on his door, "Dirk open up please!" You hear retching from the other side and your fears are confirmed, "Dirk please! I need to know if you're okay!"

"I..." another cough, "I-I'm... fi-ine..."

More sounds of vomiting ensue, and you start to jiggle the doorknob in panic. You're lucky it's unlocked. Your eyes widen in horror at the sight of your best friend before you once you throw open the door.

He's on his knees, barely keeping himself off the ground. His lips are stained red and dripping with saliva and blood, petals of yellow and crumpled daffodils scattered across the carpet. His hair is tousled and tipped in a light crimson, and his shades are on the other side of the room, showing his glazed orange eyes and how red they are around the rims.

"Oh god... Dirk..." you whisper, your hands to you lips.

"J-jane... don't look..."

You run over to him and scoop him into your arms and sit him upright, running your fingers through his hair. It always calms him down, "N-no... No I'm here Dirk. I'm here... I didn't think it would be this bad..."

"I-it's..."

"Don't you dare say this is fucking okay, Strider! How long have you kept this from us?!"

He jerks forward to vomit more daffodils, "T-two years..."

"Wh... B-but why...?"

He chuckles lightly, some blood dribbling from his tongue, "Y-you... you liked him first..."

"Bullshit Dirk! You can't be this selfless and hurt yourself like this! You're fucking dying! My feelings aren't worth your life!" you scream, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You hear hurried footsteps in the doorway, and hysterical panting from Roxy, a limp Jake on her shoulder, "Jane, oh god... Oh not you too Dirk..."

"Wh-what do you mean?" she's about to answer when Jake goes into a coughing fit, tiger lilies falling from his mouth. Your stomach drops further as the teen in your arms convulses and vomits again. Staring at Roxy, her pink eyes contracted in panic, you ask, "How long?"

"H-he says almost a year..."

"Roxy you have to call an ambulance."

"R-right..." she hastily replies before sitting Jake down against the wall.

Dirk throws up again, and his voice starts to waver, "J-jane..."

"What is it Dirk?"

"I-it hurts... It... h-urts..." he whimpers, more tears running down his pale skin. This is one of the few times you've seen him cry, an ultra-rare sight.

You continue to stroke his hair and wipe the blood off his lips, humming to keep him calm like you did when he broke down as a kid. Roxy comes back and strokes Jake's back, listening to him sob through her shoulder. You both do this until the ambulance arrives and takes the boys away.

(~}*{~)

The white of the hospital waiting room is almost blinding, the sterile scent drying any sort of hope you have left. Roxy's hand is firm in yours, running her thumb across the back of it. Your own heart is stuck in your throat, trapped and loud and painfully convulsing. Roxy's still in tears, her head on your shoulder as her other hand is gripping your shirt. She has always been the most open with her emotions, and this time was no different.

You've been waiting for about two hours for any sort of news to know they're okay. You've memorised the pattern of the keyboard clicks of the receptionist, how fast the ceiling fan spins and the intervals of the phone ringing. Roxy has asked the receptionist if they're doing alright at least five times, and you have asked three.

"Janey?" whimpers Roxy, shifting so that you can catch her pink eyes in the corner of yours.

"Yes?"

"What if they have the flowers removed?"

Possibilities flash through your mind at the speed of light and your tears begin to resurface, "I-I don't know..."

"They'll j-just fall in love again, right? Start fresh and all?"

You nod reluctantly, "I hope so... I really do..."

Three more hours and the doctor struts out the operating room. Roxy's sound asleep, a small string of drool hanging from her lips. You've barely kept yourself awake, but you are now, and you shake your friend to open her eyes.

"Miss Crocker, Miss Lalonde-"

"Are they alive?" you ask, making direct eye contact with the man.

He's caught off guard for a second, but he regains his composure quickly, "Yes, they're both stabilised and are breathing fine. But we had to remove the flowers from their lungs..."

All optimism you held before fled at that moment, and you have to will yourself to stop crying.

Roxy merely stares at him in disbelief, shaking her head, "So they're both...?"

"I'm afraid so... But the pain they've suffered is gone. We've never gotten such a chronic case of Hanahaki disease until your friend came along. Although, he has some iron resilience to survive that long..."

You smile sadly, "That he does."

"Would you like to see them? They're still recovering from the anaesthetic, so they may be tired."

Standing up, you nod, "Yes please."

He leads you to down the hall where you head to Dirk and Roxy heads to Jake. You're quiet when you enter, in case he was asleep, but he's not. He's surprisingly lucid when he sees you, a Strider Smile broadening on his lips. You can't stop yourself from sprinting over to his bedside and encasing him in a hug.

"Oh lord you're alright. You're alright."

"Yes, it appears that I am," he says, shrugging.

"Oh suck it, Dirk."

"That an invitation?"

"God nooo!" you groan, posing dramatically. He laughs. It's the first time you've heard that in a year. There's a light in his orange eyes that you've missed dearly in the quiet moments. God you've missed him so much.

You tell him what happened and how he got here, and he takes it rather well considering he almost died. He sits and nods, his fingers fiddling with the sheets of the hospital bed. The operation really did a number on him, leaving him with nothing more than scraps of memory that involve Jake. Even if he was in the background, he was erased, but he would always note that something was missing.

After the recap, Dirk shifts nervously on the bed, his brow furrowing for a split second before straightening his expression again, "So... He's okay? Alive and shit?"

"Yes, fortunately."

"But he doesn't know who I am."

"Actually... I don't know. We never found out who he was regurgitating tiger lilies for."

"Tiger lilies?"

"Yes?"

"Those are... um..."

"Oh..." so Jake was pining for Dirk the whole time. You never really had a lick of a chance, did you? Well, no use moping about the past. You continue, "Well then sadly he did. Unfortunately."

He sighs, another sentence prepared but is interrupted by Roxy flinging herself into his arms, "Ow ow ow chest ow Rox stop."

She immediately retracts, "Sorry sorry! Forgot you... uh... yeah that whole schpeelio. Heh," she's blushing. Roxy always looks cute when she blushes.

"It's cool. Um... Is... Is that guy..."

"You mean Jake?" you ask.

"Yeah him. Is he cool... maybe with speaking to me? From what I've been told, he's pretty sweet."

"Oh my god the sweetest of sweets like you have no fuckin' clue dude," chirps Roxy, ready to pull him out of bed at the quickest command.

Dirk winces again, "Later later. Jesus... ow..." he holds his chest to ease the pain.

The pink-dipped blond winces apologetically, "Sorry Di-Stri. I'm... I'm just happy you're okay is all."

"It's fine, Ro-Lal."

After three days of recovery, you come to the hospital for your daily visit. However, as you walk into Dirk's room, you find it empty. The sheets were pulled off in what looked like a hurry, and the windows were wide open, letting the breeze in. In any other situation, you would panic and call a nurse, but after you walk out and hear two animated voices from behind Jake's door, you smile and leave the two lovebirds be.

**Author's Note:**

> Well that went better than expected as a transition to AO3. This was fun to write too! I usually write from Dirk or Dave's prespective but Jane was a nice change! 
> 
> Anyways! I hope you enjoy! Feedback is most appreciated!


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